


CONTROL

by houndsace



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Choking, Footjob, Knifeplay, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 12:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houndsace/pseuds/houndsace
Summary: gilgamesh and solomon are usually at odds - and that extends to the bedroom.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> whoops?  
> nsfw pwp featuring my two favorite casters!  
> no beta, as usual

Solomon could say every day that he was a man of the book, a holy man, and yet, that entire facade falls apart when he’s faced with something like this. 

Violence, fills his every pore and the way that his body feels heavy is different than before, a weight that he doesn’t feel often, but that disgust stays with him as he tears through a Singularity, eyes raging. The anger slowly fades, the way that it deflates in him but leaves the residual flare, a small spark.

Babylonia is his destination, and maybe there’s a reason for it. Maybe he wants to see him again, but deep down he isn’t sure anymore. He feels the fire in his veins light, though, when Gilgamesh does appear, and there’s a wicked noise that leaves his mouth when he feels the hand in his hair, yanks him down to the ground but he doesn’t let it stop him from dragging the other with him, surprise evident and yet, doesn’t let it get the best of him. He’s dragged Gilgamesh down, and will keep him down. 

There’s no malice - something that’s very much playful like a cat caught it’s prey, with little intention of doing anything, “Is there something you need?” 

The sneer, and it almost makes Solomon want to laugh when the King of Uruk speaks, “You’re asking me what I want, when you’re the one here, uninvited? This is my kingdom, and you will not step foot in here without permission.” 

“Perhaps you should tell that Master of yours to keep it better locked up.” There’s a trace of amusement in his tone, and he can feel a hand slide up his chest, deceiving in its motions before the smile on his face almost seems rabid, “Is that so, little King?” 

And that’s when he feels it - the way that his fingers clench around his throat, nails in his skin, and Solomon lets out a noise, sharp and there’s a minute that he takes to wind the punch up but ends up with a good clock to the man’s arm, but Gilgamesh’s smile is the mirror of another and Solomon gives the barest hints of a laugh, “Ah, how cute… Just like your Archer--” He feels the hand around his neck tighten, and Solomon laughs, “Just like your Archer self.” He chokes, easily, coughs as he digs his own nails to the man’s wrist before he’s shoved off, and Solomon gives a huff, moving to continue on.

But not without footsteps behind him, and he gives a rather sharp stare, but thinks it futile to say something.

It takes an hour, maybe more, of the man wandering around the Kingdom before he finally speaks again. There’s something serene about him now, easier than his earlier mood and there’s a hum that leaves his lips. He can feel the marks on his neck, but doesn’t actually move to touch them, leaves them be. They’ll heal on their own time, and there’s a soft noise from Solomon as he finally speaks, “I forget how beautiful it is here.”

“..Despite the fact you almost razed it to the ground?” Gilgamesh’s voice is flat, factual, and Solomon barely stops himself from cringing. There’s a noise of discomfort but he can’t help but realize that the other is right. Guilt, something more familiar than anything else, ebbs into his stomach and he gives a nod.

Silence follows as they walk again, and this time, they end up back at Gilgamesh’s quarters, despite Solomon’s presence feeling all the more overbearing in a tighter space, and Gilgamesh’s eyes follow him much more easily than they had before. He doesn’t appreciate the man moving along his belongings, but there’s a tenseness in his body when he feels Solomon’s fingers along his body.

And then, a spin, on his heel as he starts to push Solomon against the nearest surface, kiss anything but gentle. There’s fire in both their bellies, feeling it ignite again as he feels the other man’s mouth against his, teeth biting against the skin of his lip and Solomon gives a soft grunt, back finally hitting hard against the wall. 

Solomon didn’t mind this - feeling the other’s body against his, letting him take control, and god is he glad they’re clothes can just be willed away because he wants Gilgamesh bare, in front of him now, to feel heated skin against his and Solomon gives an almost growl when Gilgamesh’s teeth hit his throat, right where the marks had been earlier, but doesn’t stop him, if anything, moves his head to bare his throat further.

Rare was it that he let anyone see him in such a state and yet he became pliant in Gilgamesh’s hands, hot breath on his throat as the other Caster speaks, “You just need someone to take all that power away, don’t you? I’ll gladly take it.” He punctuates the sentence with a bite to the man’s shoulder, “Get rid of your clothes.”

And he does, gladly, easily, tattoos along his arms and body and Gilgamesh takes the moment to note just how pretty Solomon is, the Gate opening up and giving him the oil he wants. He wants nothing more than to watch this man, taller, bigger in stature and almost in status, to fall apart beneath him and he moves to shove Solomon against the bed instead now, pushes his thighs apart with a soft hum, “You look good like this, Sovereign.” He mutters, but there’s no respect in that title, making Solomon move beneath him. 

Gilgamesh rids himself of his clothes now, watching Solomon as he moves to push teasing fingers against the other man, eyes so very attentive as he watches the way Solomon writhes already, unused to the feeling and yet, so receiving the longer Gilgamesh teases. There’s only the slightest bit of amusement in his voice, as he finally speaks again, “You know what I want, Solomon.”

There’s no resistance - a whine from his mouth before it tears past his lips as Gilgamesh’s fingers press against his prostate, back arches ever so slightly off the bed as he feels continually tease it, and yet, he doesn’t open his mouth.

Not until there’s a knife at his throat, and Solomon feels his body jerk, watches the way that the Gate of Babylon opens up again, the metal against his skin and that’s when he feels it. Helpless, and yet, wantingly so. The power Gilgamesh takes from him is willingly given, body aching to feel him and yet the other Caster won’t give it to him, not yet.

“Please…” It leaves his mouth finally, and Gilgamesh watches as the flush that hits his skin travels down his neck, to his chest, and Gilgamesh’s smile is teasing, unreal, and Solomon gives a huff as he feels the blade against his side now, “Please.” 

“You’ll have to do better than that.” 

Blade pushes, just barely, and Solomon gives a jolt, feels the metal scrape against him and yet can’t find it in him to care about it, feels the pain and then, the pleasure as Gilgamesh’s fingers hit his prostate again, “Please, God, Gilgamesh.” 

“Better.” Fingers are replaced and Solomon feels full, a feeling he hasn’t had in what feels like too long, as Gilgamesh finally gives him what he wants. The man sets a pace that’d be considered brutal if it weren’t for how it made Solomon feel even more desperate if he wouldn’t, legs coming to frame either side of the other man, body singing at this point as he feels Gilgamesh inside of him. 

There’s nothing gentle about it - the way Gilgamesh’s hand finds his throat again and his nails rake against the other man’s back, harsh and heavy, wanting there to be a lasting mark, fucking the same way they fight; hard, not holding back, Solomon’s body begging even if he doesn’t speak it.

Gilgamesh’s hands move from the knife, discarded so that he can pull Solomon’s hands above him, continue to thrust in and out of him, and Solomon gives a whine again as he feels the man’s pace quicken once more, the stutter in his hips telling him that Gilgamesh was close. 

He’s filled again, feels absolutely defiled but craves the nails in his wrists as he feels Gilgamesh push himself full into him, spill into him and his back arches, cumming himself without even having been touched. 

Their chests both heave, panting as they watch each other, gold eyes meeting red and Solomon, for all his pomp, gives the barest hints of a smile as he watches the other man come down.

In moments like these, Solomon finds Gilgamesh beautiful, the way the light hits him and lights his face, hair absolutely golden in the light of Babylonia, and Solomon finds his breath stolen. He can’t stay long, but he lets his fingers, wrists now freed by the other, gently come to trace along the man’s jaw. 

This kiss was softer, almost one-sided because the minute it ends, Solomon gently pushes the man off of him, and he’s gone not twenty minutes later, not a trace of guilt in his step as he leaves, a smile thrown to the man that says this absolutely wasn’t the last time.


	2. BAIT AND SWITCH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoops x2

He swears it’s pure sin, the way Gilgamesh’s tongue feels on his fingers. He’d noticed the man looking at his hands already, deft fingers having moved around several tomes in the messy workshop, and he had to admit, it was a little shocking to have Gilgamesh in Ars Paulina to begin with. At least this was after it had been formed into a proper looking home, but it was hard to resist just pushing the man up against the bare parts of the desk. Instead, he watches Gilgamesh with interest for a minute, before moving closer to do just that, backing him against the desk that sat there and pushing a leg between the other Caster’s, humming softly as his thumb trace gently along the man’s lips. 

It happens quickly - Gilgamesh’s tongue darting out, and then, Solomon’s fingers in his mouth, wet, warm, Gilgamesh’s tongue moving around them, between them, and Solomon adds just that slightest bit more pressure to the muscle, brings his fingers in just that little bit deeper as his other hand finds its way around Gilgamesh’s waist, to move him to the bed, but that’s when Gilgamesh’s smart mouth kicks in, pushing Solomon’s fingers out of his mouth. 

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing, hm?” It’s an inquiry, an easy one at that, and Solomon only raises a brow, Gilgamesh moving to push his hands away for a minute. 

“I’m about to teach you what you could do with that smart mouth that doesn’t involve speaking.” 

Gilgamesh’s mouth goes almost dry at the fact that Solomon takes on a tone with him - one that he’s sure others have heard, the one that makes him sound like the sovereign he is, and he has to stop himself from licking his lips, instead, turns his head, snorting, “As if.” 

The smirk that graces Solomon’s face is just as bad as the tone that had taken over, making Gilgamesh’s heart pound as he feels the man’s hands move to his ass instead, a gasp on his face as he feels it through his clothing, body clearly interested in what the man had in store, and yet, pride not letting him bow just yet. 

The first smack happens without him realizing, leaving him gasping and almost falling into the man, “I have ways of dealing with you when you decide to get uppity with me, Gilgamesh,” The voice is right in his ear, breath hot as he feels Solomon’s hands slowly reach past the waistband of his pants, pulling them down and massaging the muscle there, “Will you let me do as I want? As I want you to? I won’t without your permission, Gilgamesh.” 

A challenge is issued almost immediately, a scoff as Gilgamesh places a hand against his chest, yet doesn’t entirely push him away, “I’d like to see you try.” 

And that seems to be the last bit of patience that Solomon has, another harsh slap against the man’s bare ass this time, and Gilgamesh feels his body shudder, bites his lip as he’s brought along the man’s lap, “Sometimes I wonder if you know just how annoying that mouth of yours is. Here I am, about to put it to work, and you continue to run it in ways that only ever get under my skin.”

“That’s the point, fool.” 

Smack. Gilgamesh feels the hand against his ass again, before rubbing it, gently, soothing the flesh that’s turning slowly pink, “What was that, Gilgamesh?” 

“I said that that’s the point, Solomon-- Ah!” He’s cut off by the moan that hits him when Solomon smacks his ass again, the other man humming in appreciation.

“Really, your ass is so nice.” He mutters, before his fingers move along the muscle again, gently prod at his hole but doesn’t dare trying moving inside, knowing well enough that it’d only hurt and that wasn’t the point here, “I’d rather reduce you this way, though, so please, hold your tongue?” 

A laugh, and this continues on - another few times, Gilgamesh’s biting tongue against Solomon’s hand, before his fingers are back in the man’s mouth, reduced to a mess that had been dripping precum along his slacks, before he watches the other, thinks for a moment.

He keeps the man in his lap, his free hand that wasn’t currently fucking Gilgamesh’s mouth finding a way over and up the man’s spread thighs, humming softly as he gives just the barest touch along the other man’s cock. A heavy look, before he watches him, closely, then pushes Gilgamesh, making the man slide off his lap and onto the floor. He doesn’t mind, wipes his fingers against his slacks, and hummed softly as he watched Gilgamesh’s face get level with his own, “Now, will you listen to me?” The hum he receives only seems slightly blissed, and there’s a chuckle from Solomon. 

Fingers in Gilgamesh’s hair, there’s something absolutely beautiful about Gilgamesh on his knees in front of him. There had been plenty of times that Solomon had bowed to the King - but there needed to be a balance, one of power and Solomon had no issue, really, overpowering the other, but he lets Gilgamesh give it to him. There’s something just satisfying about it, to see the golden king on his knees before him, and Solomon gives him a rather sly smile, those same deft fingers tugging, just so gently, to push the man’s face against his slacks.

He hadn’t bothered with the robes this time - had gone straight for the form fitting outfit he kept for days he wanted to go out, save the waistcoat he had left behind in the closet, another hum gracing his lips, curious now, as he watches Gilgamesh mouth at his cock through the pants. He doesn’t mind the teasing but he has something he wants, and it’s that man’s mouth. 

There’s a small hum from him again as he unzips his pants, Gilgamesh’s hair free for now, “You’re desperate, aren’t you? Your face is flushed already.” His tongue starts, and then, stops for a minute as he places the head of his cock on Gilgamesh’s lips, watches as the man opens his mouth and receives him readily, almost groans at the way the man’s tongue darts out to roll along the head before pulling him in, Solomon’s hand finding its way back to Gilgamesh’s soft locks, tugging along gently. 

He’s by no means small, even in the half flaccid state and Gilgamesh clearly has no issue getting him up the rest of the way, filling the man’s mouth easily. There’s no denying it now, a need filling his stomach as he watches Gilgamesh before he, with little warning, pushes the man down further, a gentle reminder on his tongue, “Breath… Through your nose, we both know this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, Gilgamesh.” 

Gilgamesh can hear the sin that drips off the man’s once pious tongue, and there’s a part of him that struggles for a second, feels his throat tighten before taking breaths through his nose now - all the while Solomon sinking him further down, until he can feel the man’s pubic bone against his nose.

Solomon almost keens - Gilgamesh’s mouth is hot, wet, and there’s something about it he already can’t get enough of. He keeps that hand in his hair, tight in his grip as he starts to move the man’s mouth on him, using his hair to move him and by no means gentle about it, especially once he sees Gilgamesh slowly getting accustomed to it. 

“Ah… but we can’t forget about you, can we, dear?” A chuckle at the noise Gilgamesh makes at the endearment, and then, another of surprise when Solomon’s foot finds his cock, a gentle press against him, and Solomon gives another light hum, “There you go…” There’s no remorse in the fact that he starts to rub against the man, loving the way the combination makes Gilgamesh’s eyes glassy, watching those ruby red eyes on him as he breathes out, deeply. 

He doesn’t want to cum down the man’s throat - but has no issues bringing himself closer, closer to the edge the same way he slowly edges the other man with his foot groaning as he pulls the man off him with a soft noise, his lips red, wet with spit and Solomon moves his hand to jack himself off, get himself off the rest of the way and right along Gilgamesh’s mouth and face, moaning softly as he watches Gilgamesh grind against his leg involuntarily. He shucks off the slacks before his brain kicks in, sends him up a wall with its thoughts.

There’s a part of Solomon now that wants something else, that moves easy, brings Gilgamesh back up and further onto the bed, let’s Gilgamesh will away his clothing and gently, running his fingers along the man’s cock. He enjoys seeing Gilgamesh on his lap, thinks for a minute before he threads his fingers along his hair again, bringing his face closer and his tongue, running along those lips, tasting himself and his other hand, guiding Gilgamesh to grind against his thigh as he runs his tongue along the other’s jaw, licks off the cum he’s left there. 

It isn’t until he’s done that he presses his mouth against Gilgamesh’s, moans against the other’s mouth before he moves him away again, pulling him so that he can talk right in his ear, “Go ahead… I’ll let you get off like this, grinding against my thigh like some kind of whore. Do you want that? You’ll have to tell me, Gilgamesh, I can’t read your mind.” 

All he gets is a moan, though soft as it is in volume, and Gilgamesh grinding himself further down on his thigh. There’s a chuckle again, “That’s what I thought.. You’re so expressive without using your words. Is your jaw sore?” Lips trace along it, a nip with sharper canines and Gilgamesh gasps softly, wondering how he hadn’t notice the barest trace of fangs before, and yet, unsurprised. He wasn’t sure Solomon was ever human, but doesn’t question it, only hears the voice in his ear again, “I hope it is… I hope when we’re done, you’ll feel this for days to come. You’ll feel me, for days. I want you wrung out, Gilgamesh. You aren’t getting a small tryst this time.” Silence, then...

“Is that why you came here?” His voice turns playfully accusatory, and Gilgamesh makes a noise somewhere between disgust and amusement, which makes Solomon still him, big hands on his waist as the King of Magic meets his eyes with ones that seem to almost glow with how gold they are, “Were you trying to seduce me, Gilgamesh?” And now, he moves Gilgamesh’s hips, both hands there as he grinds the man against him, “I want to see you come apart, oh Wise King..” He mutters the title against Gilgamesh’s neck, then, bites down, feeling the man spill along his thigh with a gasped moan as he does, body shuddering against Solomon’s body.

And yet, he doesn’t let the other rest, swaps their positions so that he can strip himself fully, fingers easily pulling off the shirt, and hums as he presses Gilgamesh down into the bed. It’s so easy, the twirl of fingers that produces a small light, and then, a ribbon, gold in color that matches his eyes, that matches Gilgamesh’s favorite color, before his arms are bound above him, “Familiar?” He jokes softly, before he does the same to produce lubricant, lets the bottle fall to the side for now as he moves to push Gilgamesh’s thighs together, cock between them with a groan. He has to admit, he doesn’t mind this, fucking himself along the other’s thighs, watching (feeling) the other man get hard again underneath him as he does it before he huffs, shakes his head.

“I fear that I need more than just your thighs, as wonderful as they feel.” He doesn’t mind pushing the other’s legs further apart and hums softly as he finally gets his mouth where he wants it, between the man’s legs. There’s one that goes over his shoulder, exposes him completely as he grabs for the lube previously discarded, but he doesn’t use his fingers - no, it’s his mouth that lines it’s way from biting Gilgamesh’s thighs, to prodding at his hole, almost no warning as he’s multitasking in letting his mouth absolutely devour the man and warm the lubricant between his fingers, those eventually joining the fray. He can tell Gilgamesh won’t be able to handle much else - that an easy press of his fingers could do it, and yet, he doesn’t let the man cum so easily. His free hand moves to stay at the base of Gilgamesh’s dick, effectively keeping him from it for now. 

It isn’t until he gets three of his fingers into the man, pushes deep inside him that he lets Gilgamesh spill over himself, a combination of his tongue in him and the push of his fingers, that Solomon lets the man come again. It’s beautiful to watch, he thinks, watching the man shudder, his entire body moving along him and Solomon hums softly. 

“I’ve had enough of your pretty face, though.” He mutters, moves to snap the handcuffs himself before he flips Gilgamesh over, using the lube on his own cock before moves one hand to line himself and the other to keep the other with his upper body down. 

Gilgamesh almost keens from overstimulation, feeling his cock twitch a bit as he feels Solomon fill him. He’s so damn big, and Gilgamesh isn’t sure if he feels that way because he’s unused to the sovereign inside him, or if it’s the overstimulation making him feel everything, from the way Solomon’s cock feels moving inside him, to the way Solomon’s nails just drag over his spine, and there’s a moan from him as he grips the sheets with his hands, fists them into them as Solomon sets a pace that’s all too slow for him, one hand moving to settle on the man’s hips. 

His hair is all but a curtain as he leans over Gilgamesh, pulls the man’s hips with an arm as the smaller Caster feels the heat of Solomon’s skin against his back, before he starts driving into him, fingers digging into Gilgamesh’s hips as he fucks him, teeth along his spine and nails in his skin as Gilgamesh moans beneath him, feeling his cock stirring again and yet, he knows well that it won’t last as long as before - he’s running on the edge of his stamina, and yet Solomon seems inhuman in his pace.

His free hand finds Gilgamesh’s cock and he swears the man is hellbent on killing him with this, the way he starts pumping his cock, only to completely halt the process, over and over that leaves Gilgamesh a further mess, body aching as he lets Solomon use him - needing him to use him, and there’s a relief that floods Gilgamesh when he feels the pace stutter, he wants to pass out, but can feel the stars behind his eyes and Solomon is adamant in making him cum at least once more, and the orgasm that hits him has him feeling as though he’s blacked out for a moment, feeling Solomon fill him and his body heat up at the way the man drags him up to press him fully against the other, and a loud, keening moan leaves Gilgamesh as he Solomon rides out his orgasm.

And then, finally, allows the man to fall onto the bed, half conscious, worn out, and feeling more than satisfied. 

He almost pays no mind to the cloth on his backside, realizes Solomon is actually cleaning him up before the other joins him in bed. Instinctively, Gilgamesh moves towards the warm body next to him, relaxing into it and Solomon humors him, fingers in his lower back gentle this time.

“... Don’t get used to this.” He mutters against the white haired man’s skin, and Solomon only lets out a laugh, running his fingers along Gilgamesh’s spine as he lets the man rest.


End file.
